Quantum Leaps and Bounds
by Ana Silvertongue
Summary: dream sequence beware, influenced strongly by quantum leap and romance novels, only characters i own are megan and myself
1. aww crap, good thing i took voice in col...

Somehow I went back in time and switched places with Christine Daae'.  Now I know it seems nuts, but it was like Quantum leap or something. Anyway instead of being a scientist, I was a literary creature, my only guide person being my friend Megan, who was royally pissed off that I was the one for this mission and not her.  Well when I woke up I was in this ornately decorated dressing room with these huge mirrors on the wall.  Evidently I had, well Christine had, passed out, due to the corsetry she was wearing, during the intermission.  Luckily, I can sing a good soprano and was able to finish the Opera that night, well get to the part where the stage went dark and I was kidnapped. Yes, we were doing Faust that night, and it was the night that Christine was to run off with Raoul.  Any way, when the light went out, I felt strong arms wrap around my waist and a large hand cover my mouth.  I didn't need to see the porcelain colored silk mask on the muscular man carrying me to figure out that I knew all too well where we were headed.

          The labyrinth of l'Opera disoriented even my head for directions.  Twists and turns, level after level got my sense of direction so turned around I would not have been able to find myself with both hands, had I really wanted to.  Luckily, someone who knew every inch of the opera house and would not loose his way no matter where he went was escorting me.  He finally set me on my feet when we were in the fourth basement. He gave me his arm to help me down the final descent before the lakeshore.  The boat was tethered at a small dock, a black lantern glimmering in the dark.  Setting one foot into the bow end, I lost my balance and tumbled into the hull of the small craft.  

          "I guess that's what I get for trying to step in without assistance," I said amused and embarrassed. I leaned against the bench and got comfortable; not knowing how long the trip across would take, feeling the exhaustion one feels after an extremely stressful day.  When we began to move along the water, the gentle rocking lulled me to sleep, not caring where I was, nor the fact that I was with one of the most dangerous men I have ever met.


	2. this mission, should you choose to accep...

When I awoke sometime later I was in a very comfortable feather bed surrounded by the most sumptuous linens I have ever felt.  I swear that the coverlet was made of embroidered velvet, incarnate red with gold and silver work done on it.  Four heavy mahogany posts carved in the shape of angels clasping sheet music held up the canopy.  The canopy itself was gold with cherubs frolicking around dancing and playing instruments.  The curtains were drawn on the bed with only a sliver of light peeking through the gaps.  I sat up and pulled the curtains open. Surrounding me in the room on every flat surface were silver candelabras.  Each candelabrum held five tapers in cups shaped like roses.  There was a scent, not overpowering, of rose oil beeswax.  It did not smell of English rose, this was a tangy almost musky scent, more like that of someone wearing rose perfume.  After checking to make sure I was alone, I sat and brushed out my waist length hair.  Deciding that I had to use the w.c. and take a bath I went in search of the door.  I found it exactly where I expected it, right in between the mahogany fireplace and the armoire full of beautiful costume gowns. 

 The bathtub was enormous, almost the size of a small swimming pool.  I turned on the hot water tap and luxuriated in the warm bubbles created by the bottle of rose scented soap I found next to the grand tub.  I found amazingly that I did not need to shave as, sometime before I came here, Christine had waxed her legs and armpits.  Thankfully enjoying the fact that I did not need to try and amputate my limbs with a straight razor, I washed the damp hair that cascaded around my body.  Getting clean was such a wonderful feeling after sleeping for hours in that horrid costume and greasepaint stage makeup that I started singing.  Unfortunately, the only song that came out of my mouth was The Point of No Return from the Andrew Lloyd Webber version of the Phantom of the Opera. I hoped desperately that Erik could not hear what I was singing and subsided into a fit of giggles.  After I toweled off and braided the sides of my hair back into a headband, I put on a beautiful nightgown of English organza and lace.

 Just as I was returning from that luxurious bath, Megan decided to pop into the candle lit bedroom and just about passed out.  She didn't see me standing behind her, but when she turned around, I could see the tears in her eyes.        "Why were you the one chosen for this trip? I've always wanted to be here, especially with _him!  _It's okay though; I'll be all right.  Anyway, your mission, should you choose to accept it, and I guess you already have seeing as you sang the part of Margarita earlier, is to change the story to the way it should have been, although it won't change a damn thing that stupid git Gaston Leroux writes, we will know it happened differently."

          "Sounds like fun to me" I replied. "And if you tell me how to change it I will kick your butt when I get back AND erase all but one copy of these files!"

          "Hey, don't even get bitchy at me cause you got this mission and I didn't.  Can't I just stick around and watch?  I'm only a hologram here, after all."

          " Alright, you can watch, but only if I don't see or hear you.  Of course all of this is being recorded in the hologram chamber for posterity so why the hell not.  All I ask is that you give both of us some privacy, even though he doesn't know your are here, that is no reason to follow him everywhere, otherwise I'll put the files in a password protected state and the hard drive under lock and key, got it?"

          " Okay, okay, I'll just make myself disappear so I can see through the wall. Geeze, hardass."


	3. an invitation to dinner

Almost as soon as she left there came a soft knock at the door.  "Who is it?' I sang in my sweetest little girl innocent voice.  A stunned silence issued from the other side.

"Come on in Erik, there's no one else it could be, and only a true gentleman knocks first anyway."

There was a rather musical click as he unlocked and opened the solid oak door.

          " I . . . I was just wondering if you were hungry.  You were out for hours and I was worried."

"I'm all right, I could go for some food though, what is there to eat, anything?"

"It's only about three in the morning, so I don't think there are any restaurants _elegant_ enough open, but there is some bread and cheese.  What would you care for to drink, mademoiselle?"

" Port or burgundy would be nice, although I might want to change first," realizing belatedly that I was wearing a rather transparent nightgown with nothing else, and that was probably why, after opening the door Erik refused to look at me at all, preferring to politely turn his head away.

" And yes, it is okay if you leave because I think you need to catch your breath and let the blush subside from your face under that mask.  I can tell, your ears and neck are puce.  I promise I'll wear something less transparent."

" Thank you for that kind thought, mademoiselle."

" I'll only be a minute, and you don't have to lock the door this time."

It only took me a few minutes to put on some really pretty undergarments that fit like they were made for me, rather disconcerting seeing as I was never fitted or measured beforehand.  I also buttoned myself into a forest green embroidered gown that looked like it belonged to Morgan le Fay.  My hair I had already braided back partially, and it reached nearly to the small of my back. 

As I looked through the room I found an inlaid jewelry box with pearl and silver butterflies adorning it.  As I opened it, my eyes welled with tears.  Sitting on the small top shelf was a little gold band tied with red ribbon to a folded note.  I untied it and placed the ring on my left ring finger, knowing completely what seeing it on my hand would mean to the giver.  Then I read the note.

**_My dear Christine,_**

**_          As you probably know, I cannot live without you.  When I found this lying on the roof this evening, after your rendezvous with le Vicomte, it broke my heart.  You took the ring saying that it would never part with your finger._**

**_          I give it back to you now with the full knowledge of what went on with that boy.  Whether or not you wear it, my life depends on your answer.  I ask this in a note, for I cannot bear to do this again face to face.  By wearing this ring, you give your consent to stay here with me, until the end of my days, which is not far off.  If you do not wear it, you go with my blessing and keep it as a token of my undying love and affection for you, to remember what has happened here._**

**_          I love you, Christine. I can't deny it.  Take the ring and make your choice.  I'll die without you.  Know that and make your decision._**

**_                                      Love Always,_**

**_                                            Your Angel_**

**_                                                Erik_**

As I sat and read what he wrote, I couldn't help but sob.  This woman, to whom all he had ever shown was inarticulate love, had trounced his feelings, not only that; he had given her his beating heart and she had ripped it to shreds, mashing it into the dirt with Raoul's boots.  THIS woman, I will not call her a lady, had unwittingly left me to pick up the pieces of this poor broken soul.  I knew what I had been left, maybe even chosen to do.


	4. a picnic in the dark

I took a deep breath, thought to myself: "Megan's going to kill me!" and opened the door.  He had set out a picnic in the drawing room. There were white tapers lit on every surface.  He had brought out a bottle of his best red wine and had two large loaves of bread set in a basket with a small baked Brie.  When I realized the type of cheese he had chosen, I gave a little involuntary giggle.  He turned at the sound, ready to say something, but stopped and whatever he was going to say was gone in an instant.  The look in his eyes told me I had chosen my garments well and he could not see my hands as they were buried in the folds of skirt.

          " You look beautiful" was all he said, and there was a catch in his throat as he said it.

He helped me find a comfortable spot on the floor and settled nearly opposite and just out of easy reach.  While he was occupied uncorking and pouring the wine I cut the bread and spread the soft, crumbly cheese onto the delicate slices.  As I stretched my hand out to take the proffered glass, he saw the ring. Nerveless, his hand went slack, dropping the full goblet.

          Eyes brimming with tears he asked: "Are you mocking me by wearing that band, or do you really mean what it says?"

          " Would I lie to you in this way?  Would I really want to break your heart again?  How could I do such a thing to someone who is willing to go to any length, even kill, to win my love??

Forgetting the shattered glass and not caring about the spilled wine I fell at his feet sobbing.  A gentle hand took my arm drawing me near.  He was breathing hard through the sobs raking both our bodies where I was hardly breathing.  Stroking my hair with the utmost tenderness and affection he held me to his heaving chest and we both cried our hearts out.  Tears of joy, rage, fear, and anguish washed both our faces.

          " I hate to do this to you, but I need to take the mask off now. It is starting to get wet and is chafing pretty badly."

          "Just a moment, if you don't want me to see your face, blindfold me, just guide my hands so I don't break anything else," pulling a green silk scarf out of my neckline. " I knew this would come in handy."


	5. shards of a broken heart

As he was finishing binding the scarf around my head, I grabbed his hands.

          " Now let me unmask you.  Guide my hands."

He placed my hands on the strings at his temples and jaw line.  I felt my way along the ribbons through his silky soft hair to the tiny bows at the back of his head.  Fumbling a bit I finally had the knots undone.  Just letting my hands luxuriate in the soft curls they were embedded in, I slowly worked my way back to his temples.

          " Is there any spot that causes pain?" I asked.

          " My cheeks" he said as he guided my hands.

I kissed each cheek softly and delicately, feeling tears coursing over our hands as he guided mine, I kissed his entire face.  His tears were salty, the soft tang of them on my tongue and lips delicious.

          " No one has ever dared even touch my face, let alone do that before.  Leave, please.  After all of the horrible things I have done, I don't deserve to have someone who is willing to overlook my deformity and treat me as a lover.  Go, just go!"

          " I will not.  I will not let you make me lie again.  I'm not that kind of girl and you know it!"

          " Please, just go before I do something I know I will regret.  I don't want to inflict anything more upon you, and certainly not what my body is telling me to!  I am quickly losing control of myself and I would rather you were safely out of reach than victimized."

Whipping off the blindfold I replied: " Do you really think I am wearing this ring as a trinket?" Firing a mean left hook, "That I had no idea what it entailed?  I put this ring on before reading the note knowing damn well what it meant and what I was saying by wearing it."  Well the punch knocked him down hard into the settle and I was 'towering' over his reclining frame glaring at his astonished face.

          "It would serve you right if I locked myself in my chambers, but I won't because my father told me: ' Never go to sleep over an argument, it will only bite you in the morning.'  I'm going to stay here until you get it into your thick skull that I _am _choosing you, emotional problems, violent tendencies, and all.  I will not rest before this or any other argument is resolved, AND THAT'S FINAL!"


	6. on angels' wings

The astonishment by this point had give way to outright awe.  He was sitting there with a look on his face somewhere between "beaten puppy" and that of a teenage boy who has just been dumped.

          Sitting down next to him I asked: " What will it take for you to realize that, yes, I do know what I am talking about and that I do not go back on promises not mad in fear or on the spur of the moment?'

          " How could you choose me over that handsome young man?  I just don't understand why you think I am worth your time."

          " It doesn't matter what is on the outside, it is the inside I want.  I don't want a superficial, demanding, jealous young twit.  I chose you because you are a gentle man, gentlemanly enough not to watch while I think I am alone changing in my dressing room. Because you pour your heart and soul and being into every thing you do, not just what you say when presenting your false fiancée' with the most expensive gaudily jeweled ring you could buy.  You truly care when I feel weak and don't fuss and bother while I am trying to rest and recuperate.  You have a beautiful soul, Erik.  Just because you don't have a face to match is no reason to deny yourself of a woman's love.  I am not afraid or disgusted by your appearance, just a little saddened that the creator did not feel fit to give you the face of an angel.  You are an angel, Erik. My angel and I love you."

And with that I kissed him, what may well have been the first real kiss he had ever been given.  I did it not to calm my own fears, though it did, but rather to reassure him and punctuate my feelings.  Obviously he was very inexperienced as his arms were flailing about and finally came to roost around my waist as my hands were firmly attached to his lapels pulling him in.

At this point I feel it appropriate to tell you, the reader, exactly what his face looks like.  First of all, he does have a nose, albeit it is sunken in and misshapen.  No one but Andrew Lloyd Webber has seemed to figure out that Leroux did not actually see Erik's face, only heard about it through many years of gossip and rumor.  Anyway, his skin was so pale and translucent that one could almost see the muscle underneath.  His eyes were a slightly clouded shade of aqua green ringed with black around the outside of the iris and silver rays surrounding the pupil.  He has full lips, not grossly misshapen or nonexistent, contrary to popular belief.  High cheekbones and a gaunt sharp jaw line accentuated the "look of a day old corpse."  His hair was a deep shade of auburn, more chocolate colored than roan, cut in a stylish, rather dashing look.  It was silky, with just a hint of curl that made it wavy.  Also going against the stories, he was no older than mid to late thirties and was rather good looking despite his pallor and warped nose.  


	7. dungeons and demons

Anyway, back to the story.

His kiss, once he figured out what was happening, changed from pure surprised reaction to tentative exploration, growing ever more tender and passionate with each fleeting moment.  His hands traveled upward from my waist as my arms wrapped around his neck, pulling me ever closer until my breasts were firmly pressed into his chest.  He tilted my chin upward and began kissing along my jaw line, moving along my throat to the hollow just above the collarbone at the base of my neck and back up the other side.  This sent shivers of pleasure shooting through my entire body.  His breath tickled the hair behind my ear as he chuckled at my reaction.  I stretched languorously as a cat as I reclined against the curve of the sofa's arm.  Deftly, he caught both of my wrists in one hand and my waist with the other, pressing me firmly with his full weight into the cushion.

          "Is this what you want?" he asked incredulously.

          " This is a rather natural part of marriage, is it not?  Without someone doing this neither of us would be here currently. (pause) Do you mean to tell me that you never thought a woman would want you in this way?"

          "Well, yes that has happened before, but I never, er, wanted to with _her_, so I . . .I didn't. I, well, I have never been to this crossroads before, but shouldn't we be married first?  It just doesn't seem right somehow."

          "I'm sure we could find a priest, the hard part would be convincing him to marry us at this time of morning without witnesses."  My speech was then interrupted by a loud buzzing sound rather like an elevator call bell.

          "Mon Dieu!  Someone has gotten down here."

          "WHAT?!" I replied, thinking of the torture chamber. "Oh GOD DAMN IT!  That stupid git has gotten himself caught somewhere, hasn't he. I bet he thought he would be gallant and rescue the damsel in distress. Well this damsel doesn't need rescuing and all he has done is cause her more stress!" I ranted.

          "I assume le Vicomte has been looking for you.  Well, since I know you feel that way about it, let's have some fun, shall we?"

          "Yes let's, as long as he lives to tell the tale.  I don't want him to die, just maybe go slightly crazy.  At least we have witnesses now, you don't think he's smart enough to figure out how to get down here on his own, do you?"

          "Oh God, you're right. I wonder what poor soul showed him the way."

          "One way to find out, but you had probably better get off of me first, plus I need to take a bathroom break, if you don't mind."

          "Go right ahead, I won't stop you." He said giving me a hand off the couch.


End file.
